


To The Left

by skivvysupreme



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:23:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3408794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skivvysupreme/pseuds/skivvysupreme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt meets his new neighbor via noise complaint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To The Left

**Author's Note:**

> gingerbeebee (tumblr) prompted: "nevermet AU: next door neighbors or new roommates, one is playing loud music post-breakup. The other goes to ask him to quiet it down, but then comfort ensues as well as a fluffy rebound…"

Kurt pauses his typing, slender fingers hovering over his laptop, as he tries to determine where that soft, rhythmic thumping is coming from. It can’t be on the other side of his bedroom, since he has one of the corner apartments on his floor. He saves his work and makes his way into the living room, and sure enough, the frames hanging on the far wall are rattling in time with the music. This is confusing, because his neighbor is the sweetest, quietest old lady, who only gets loud if _Family Feud_ is on and she needs to yell at the contestant.  
  
He approaches the wall, and not only does it quickly become evident that the song is “Roar” by Katy Perry, but that a man is singing – or, more accurately, _belting_ – along with the lyrics.

Kurt raises an eyebrow. The guy, whoever he is, is really good, but his voice is straining with how hard he’s singing.  
  
 _“You held me down, but I got up! Get ready, ‘cause I‘ve had enough! I see it all, I see it now! I GOT THE EYE OF THE TIIIIIGER!”_  
  
Kurt figures the music isn’t too terrible a presence, and maybe this guy will be done soon – who blares music at three in the afternoon? – so he returns to his room and closes the door behind him. The bass thumping in the living room mutes a little, just enough to become an unobtrusive pulse that Kurt can mostly ignore.  
  
This relative contentment lasts another two minutes before the bass suddenly pounds through the whole apartment, louder and harder like the guy has just cranked it up as deafening as it can go. The song has changed to “Another One Bites the Dust,” and it’s so overpowering that Kurt can’t hear the guy screaming anymore.  
  
He hears a tinkling crash, followed by two more in quick succession, so he runs into the living room and yells, “What the HELL is going on over there?!” He’s barely able to hear himself say it.  
  
Three of the picture frames that were hanging on the wall now lay shattered on the hardwood floor.  
  
Kurt’s jaw clenches and he storms out of his apartment to beat his fist against the front door next to his own.  
  
 _“How do you think I’m gonna get along without you when you’re gone? You took me for everything that I had and kicked me out on my own! ARE YOU HAPPY? ARE YOU SATISFIED? HOW LONG CAN YOU STAND THE HEAT?”_  
  
This guy is impressive, but _that is not the damn point_ , Kurt reminds himself. There’s still no answer, so he bangs on the door again and screams, “EXCUSE ME! HELLO?”  
  
The sound level abruptly drops to a low murmur and the door swings open.  
  
“Excuse me, but there are actually other people living in this building, can you—?” Kurt’s complaint dies in his throat, because _holy crap_ , look at _him_.  
  
The hot nuisance seems similarly startled, blinking his huge eyes up at Kurt and rushing to pat his curls into submission. “I’m so sorry, I got—caught up.”  
  
It’s then that Kurt notices his eyes are red-rimmed and a little wet. “It’s all right,” Kurt says before he can stop himself, though it really isn’t all right and this guy owes him three new picture frames. He’s not sure if he’s accepting the apology or just wants to console him for whatever has happened as he continues, “It can be hard to tell how loud it is from the inside.”  
  
The guy shakes his head, sniffling. “No, really, I’m sorry. That was earsplitting. I only realized once you snapped me out of it. I couldn’t even hear myself think.”  
  
“I’m guessing that was the point,” Kurt shrugs, aiming for a nonchalant way of stating, _I can’t help but notice that you might have been busy having an emotional breakdown to Queen before I interrupted you._  
  
It pulls a shaky smile from the guy, more an attempt at being okay than an actual sign of being okay, and he sniffles again. “I’m Blaine. I moved in today.” He steps back to open the door wider, allowing Kurt to see the boxes stacked in what will eventually be a living room.  
  
“Kurt. I’m next door.”  
  
“Nice to meet you. I promise I’m not trouble, I just…”  
  
The song changes, and it’s a softer beat this time as Beyoncé sings, _“To the left, to the left! Everything you own in a box to the left!”_  
  
Blaine glances back at the moving boxes and his whole face just _crumples_. A thick sob falls from his throat as his eyebrows flatten, their cute triangular shape utterly collapsing under the weight of whatever’s going on here.  
  
“Uh…” Kurt shifts awkwardly in the hallway, not sure if he should leave Blaine alone now that the music’s down or try to help.  
  
Blaine turns away, wiping at his eyes, and the door slams shut.  
  
Kurt has just enough time to blink before it opens again.  
  
“Oh my god, that was so rude. I didn’t mean to do that, I’m sorry.” Blaine has his chin to his chest, both hands half-covering his face as he holds the door open with one foot. “I just broke up with my boy— _ex_ -boyfriend and we were living together but his name’s the only one on the lease and I had to move out and I—”  
  
Kurt pulls Blaine into a hug without warning. He doesn’t linger, just pulls back after one good squeeze and manages to catch the surprise on Blaine’s face. “It’s okay. Do you want help unpacking?”  
  
Blaine’s uneasy gaze starts to drift behind him, more tears welling in his eyes.  
  
“Or… you can take a break to get to know your new neighbor in his comfy, furnished apartment with cake and coffee?”  
  
The relieved look that this offer places on Blaine’s face lights something warm and rumbly in Kurt’s stomach.  
  
An hour later, they’re both curled up in Kurt’s living room, with Blaine on the couch with his legs folded underneath him and Kurt in a nearby armchair.  
  
“We went to high school together. I’ve known him for five years, but dated for two.” Blaine takes a sip of his coffee. “You know. ‘It was good until it wasn’t.’ Except _wasn’t_ lasted longer than the good part.”  
  
Kurt clicks his tongue sympathetically. “I just broke up with someone, too. We met at school – college, though, not high school. He’s a sweet guy, but it just didn’t fully click. We were better off as friends, so I know how that goes.”    
  
Blaine sighs and takes a bite of his cake.  
  
“I’m sorry, this isn’t about me. I just meant that I can relate.”  
  
“No, I get it. Friendship can make things complicated, sometimes.”  
  
“Yeah. I’m only dating complete strangers from now on,” Kurt laughs.  
  
The room drops into very pointed silence as Blaine raises his eyes to meet Kurt’s. Kurt feels his cheeks turning pink, so he hides his face behind a sip from his coffee mug.  
  
Blaine clears his throat. “So… where do you go to school?”  
  
This launches a flow of topics that doesn’t ebb until it’s dark outside and Kurt has let his third round of coffee go cold. He’s next to Blaine on the couch now, their socked feet touching as they face each other.  
  
“Is it seriously nine o’clock right now?” Kurt groans, finally glancing over at the six texts he’s ignored since Blaine landed on his couch.  
  
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Blaine shrugs, throwing _that damn smile_ Kurt’s way, as he’s done an increasing number of times over the past six hours.  
  
Something’s fighting to burst free from Kurt’s ribcage, fluttering madly up his throat. Blaine is _amazing._ As it turns out, when he isn’t crying into his own hoodie, he’s funny, attentive, and more knowledgeable about Kurt’s interests— _their_ interests—than any guy Kurt has ever met.  
  
“Blaine?”  
  
“Yes, Kurt?”  
  
“Do you want to go out with me sometime? When you’re ready, of course. I mean, I know you’re still on the bad end of a break-up, so just tell me if I’m being a total creep right now.” Kurt shrugs and bites his lip, noting with every passing second that Blaine hasn’t got off the couch to run back to his own apartment.  
  
“Hmm. That depends.”  
  
“On…?”  
  
Blaine pecks Kurt on the lips, lightning quick, then leans out of Kurt’s space with an impish little grin on his face. “Do I still count as a ‘complete stranger?’”  
  
Kurt rolls his eyes and pulls Blaine back to him by his hoodie strings. “If you do, I think we’re running out of time. Get back over here, quick!”  
  
Blaine cracks up at that, both of them laughing into each other’s mouths as they kiss again.  
  
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Kurt snorts. “Welcome to the building, Blaine.”


End file.
